


First Christmas

by Arcwin



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome Pepper Potts, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Coming Out, F/M, M/M, Mistletoe, Pepperoni, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sappy Ending, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Being Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 22:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13063296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcwin/pseuds/Arcwin
Summary: As they pull up to the compound, Steve takes a deep breath, willing his heart rate to calm down.It’s just a party,he tells himself.Just a Christmas party. These are my...friends.Bucky glances sideways at him, an eyebrow raised slightly. Questioning him. An unspokenokay?Steve nods once, firmly.Okay.





	First Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SmearedBlackInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmearedBlackInk/gifts).



> This is gifted to my soulmate/sister [SmearedBlackInk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SmearedBlackInk), who is a fantastic mother, writer, artist, wifey, Stucky shipper, and friend. She is amazing and I love her with all my heart.  
> You make me want to write for you, my love. I hope you enjoy this.

_Detached. I feel totally disconnected from myself. Am I dreaming?_ _The snow, it’s...we weren’t expecting snow. I don’t know how I feel about it. Beautiful to look at, yet painful if you stay in it for too long. Deadly, even. Is this a metaphor? Am I becoming poetic in my old age? Not likely. Perhaps it’s wisdom, being able to see both sides like this. Instead of focusing on the details, I’m seeing the whole picture. I don’t know if that’s good or not. I guess I just don’t know about much anymore._

_The snow..._

“I don’t see why you feel the need to go to this,” Steve hears from the bathroom, jolting him to the present. “Most of them still don’t trust me, and I’m pretty sure Stark downright hates me,” Bucky continues, walking out with a towel around his waist. His eyebrows are raised, an expression of concern clouding his features. He saw Steve’s face, saw the pain. Steve knows what he’s really saying: it’s _not_ about Bucky. Then again, Bucky’s last concern on the planet _is Bucky._ He always puts Steve first, and Steve _hates_ it. It’s not about selflessness--it’s about disregard. Bucky disregards himself as _important_ enough to require concern, and it makes Steve’s blood boil when he’s reminded of that. _Damn those Hydra bastards_. **_Damn them_** _._

Bucky walks slowly over and rests his hands on Steve’s shoulders, leaning close. “Really. We don’t have to go. I don’t want to watch you defend me all night.”

Steve sighs wearily, looking back out the window of their bedroom to watch the drowsy snow falling on New York. It looks discordant--such a peaceful scene above while the city vibrates below. Dissonant. Unsettling. _Just like our plans this evening_ , Steve thinks. He shakes his head as if it will clear these negative thoughts. It doesn’t. He sighs again.

Bucky swipes a thumb over Steve’s cheekbone, willing him to look up. “You obviously don’t want to go. Let’s just make up a story and stay in tonight. We can cross another thing off your list--you only have about, oh, I don’t know...200? Movies you’re still trying to catch up on. Let’s find a Christmas one that you haven’t seen and order Chinese,” he suggests, smiling widely. “We can tell them you’re sick.” A huff of laughter, his eyes twinkling. “You are an _old man_ , you know. Old men get sick.”

Steve rolls his eyes, fighting back a smirk. “Right, sure. And you’re a spring chicken, huh?” A playful shove quickly turns into a tight embrace between the men, their cheeks resting against each other. Steve slows his breathing, matching it to Bucky’s. They are still for a moment, the air quiet around them yet the tension of the evening lurking beneath. Dissonance, again.

“We have to do this, Bucky. I--”

“I know. Time to suit up, right?”

A soundless chuckle, shaking their bodies. It feels sad, resigned. Humorless. Steve tries anyway. “Yes, time to _literally_ **suit up** , Buck.”

“That was awful.”

“I know.”

* * *

As they pull up to the compound, Steve takes a deep breath, willing his heart rate to calm down. _It’s just a party_ , he tells himself. _Just a Christmas party. These are my...friends._ Bucky glances sideways at him, an eyebrow raised slightly. Questioning him. An unspoken _okay?_ Steve nods once, firmly.

_Okay._

Bucky turns off the car and they exit into the silence outside. The snow is falling thickly, now, leaving fat flakes on their shoulders. Steve watches Bucky as he walks around the car and marvels briefly at the contrast of white powder quickly coating his black hair. The flash of a memory: Christmas Eve, 1940. They both had dates that night, but Steve’s stood him up without explanation. Bucky, in turn, cancelled his (and lied about it, naturally, saying he also was stood up. Steve knew he wasn't. Bucky was never stood up.) and they went to Central Park. They walked until their toes were numb, and then they found a short wall to sit on, watching people as they scurried from shop to shop looking for last minute gifts. Steve remembers staring at Bucky, sitting on that wall next to him, rubbing his hands together and hair drenched from the snow, kicking his feet and making jokes. At the time, he couldn’t tear away his gaze and he was confused, yet oddly accepting of it. Bucky must have felt his eyes, because he turned and grinned lopsidedly before teasing him about looking lovesick. Steve felt the heat in his cheeks and looked away.

It was the last Christmas they spent together before the war. Before everything changed. Before...before.

“Ready?” Bucky asks. When did they get to the door? _I need to get out of my head_. _Focus, Rogers._

Steve forces a smile. He knows Bucky sees through him, but he tries anyway. _I’ll always try for him._ “As I’ll ever be.”

The door swings open suddenly, warmth and music and laughter spilling out onto the stoop, breaking through the air and surrounding them. Pepper is in the doorway, her face cracked open in a wide smile of genuine happiness at the sight of them. “Steve! Bucky! We were worried you weren’t going to make it tonight! I’m so glad to see you both!” She gestures for them to come inside, wrapping them each up in a tight hug after they remove their coats. “Come on, the party is this way. Everyone else is already here,” she adds over her shoulder, another sweet smile dimpling her cheeks. Steve can’t help but return it. He’s always liked Pepper, even if he has no idea how she tolerates Tony. Then again, he’s thankful that Tony has her--she grounds him. He needs that.

They enter the lounge, which seems nearly unable to contain the merriment of the evening despite the fairly small gathering. Steve scans the room, taking a census of attendees: Bruce and Natasha sitting together on a couch, drinking wine and chatting. Pepper making her way over to Rhody, nodding and saying something lost in the din. Vision standing behind the bar, talking quietly with Wanda and Stephen, who seem completely engrossed. _Probably talking about quantum physics, sorcery, or something else that I don't understand._

Clint and Sam, standing by the (unsurprisingly gaudy) tree. Clint looks like he’s describing a past mission or battle, his hands flying wildly around him as he retells the obviously thrilling story. Sam’s eyebrows are raised, face a mixture of incredulity and awe as he listens. _Clint does exaggerate a bit,_ Steve thinks with a small smile. Parker is absent, although that isn’t a surprise considering he's a minor and his aunt has no clue about his connection to this ragtag group of adults. Finally, by the window, are the Asgardians, observing. Loki, dressed sharply in his black suit, shirt, and tie, looking dour as usual. Thor is holding an enormous tankard full of beer and smiling widely while occasionally elbowing his brother in the ribs. _I wonder if this is their first Christmas? Do they celebrate Christmas in Asgard?_ Steve shakes his head at the thought. _Of course they don't, they are_ **_actually_ ** _Gods. Why celebrate the birth of a--_

“Where's Stark?” Bucky asks under his breath, interrupting Steve's musings.

“Right here, Metallica!” they hear loudly from behind them, a hand clapping solidly on Steve’s shoulder. “Wait, anyone know what's German for Metallica?”

Bruce looks up, confused. “Wouldn't it just be... _Metallica_?” he replies, shaking his head. “Proper names don't--”

“What's--you know what, nevermind,” Steve comments as he shrugs out of Tony’s reach. “Merry Christmas, Tony.”

“Hm, is it? Seems like you’d rather be anywhere else but here, Cap,” Tony responds evenly, walking over to pick up a glass of scotch on the edge of the bar. He takes a sip and his lips draw up into a smile that never reaches his eyes. “See you’ve brought your boyfriend,” he adds, gaze flicking towards Bucky before returning to stare at Steve. Tony raises his glass, nodding. “Glad you two geezers made it. Merry Christmas.”

Steve, dumbfounded, watches him stride away and join Pepper and Rhody, both of whom look exasperated. Pepper frowns, her lips pursing before she says something quietly to Tony. He shrugs and laughs, head thrown back before he takes another drink of scotch.

 _Asshole_.

Bucky clears his throat. “Want a sherry, old man?” he asks, attempting to break the mood. His eyes tell a different story. _Be calm_. _He’s not worth it. It’s okay. I’m okay._

Steve takes a deep breath, willing the tension to leave his shoulders. _He’s right. It’s not worth it._ “Actually, Buck, I’ll take a beer, please,” he says with a smile. Bucky nods and walks off to acquire their beverages, and Steve returns to scanning the room, trying to decide where they should start...interacting.

Everyone assumes that Steve, being _Captain America_ , loves Christmas. That he probably finds some sort of hard won pride on the holiday, that it just _makes_ _his stars and stripes tingle_. In reality, he’s never truly enjoyed it. _Except that Christmas Eve with Bucky in Central Park_ , his brain helpfully reminds. Yes, except for that one. Every other year, he’s spent it mostly alone or uncomfortably attending a party filled with people he barely knew and couldn’t connect with. _Or frozen._ He sighs. _Thanks, brain._ This is his first Christmas with Bucky since...well. Since 1940. It feels…

“Here,” Bucky says as he hands over a bottle of Samuel Adam’s Winter Lager. “I have a feeling Stark picked this to make a jab at me being a _Winter Soldier_ ,” he says under a chuckle. “It is literally the only beer that he bought.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “Probably. Always has to make a joke at anothers’s expense.” He meets Bucky’s eyes and feels the familiar heat on his cheeks again, the same as it was _that night_. That night, he knew. Well, he probably always knew, but that night...that was when he admitted it to himself.

Bucky’s eyes soften as he returns the gaze, unconsciously leaning closer.

**“Heeeeeyyy, I wanna shoop, baby!”**

The moment is interrupted as a new, decidedly _not_ Christmas song starts blasting through the lounge, originating at the DJ stand near the tree. As expected, Tony is the one who initiated it, the ear of his headphones held to his left ear as he dances in time with the music.

“Stark, I have not heard this carol before! It sounds different from the other holiday music we’ve listened to thus far!” Thor shouts, grinning widely and bouncing back and forth. “I like it!”

“Thought you might big man! It’s a more modern take on Christmas Carols…,” Tony replies, a devilish smile enveloping his face. He waggles his eyebrows up and down as he glances at Pepper, who rolls her eyes and walks over to turn it down. “Aw, Pep, it’s time to party!”

She smirks. “We _are_ partying, Tony. Not everyone wants to listen to 90s hip hop so loudly, though. It’s drowning out conversation.”

“Isn’t that--but--that’s how you’re supposed to listen to it! It’s in the manual!” Steve watches as she leans in to whisper in Tony’s ear, her hand trailing up his arm before squeezing his bicep. She plants a quick kiss on his cheek and he looks at her from the corner of his eye, a knowing grin on his face. “Fine, fine, you win. This time, anyway,” he concedes, as she walks back to Rhody. “Later, though! Later we are definitely listening to _Whatta Man_ at top volume!” Both Pepper and Rhody chuckle to themselves before returning to their conversation.

Steve glances at Bucky, confused. _What just happened?_ Bucky shrugs, then cocks his head towards the couch housing Bruce and Natasha; a suggested starting point. Steve nods and they walk over, sitting together on the loveseat opposite their comrades. Natasha naturally shifts to regard them, eyes scanning them both. Assessing. Steve knows she can’t help it--being raised as an assassin from a young age creates habits that are nearly impossible to break. It still makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up uncomfortably, goosebumps covering his arms. She smiles. “Cap, Buck. How goes it?”

“Good. You?” Steve replies, forcing a return smile. _Why can’t I feel comfortable tonight?_

She dips her head, smirking. “Oh, you know. Babysitting as usual.” She glances towards Tony, who continues to DJ with a scotch in his hand. “Thankfully Pepper’s been home for a while, so I’ve got some help.”

Steve nods, Bucky looks at his feet. Steve resists the urge to take his hand. “And you, Dr. Banner? How’s it going?”

Bruce smiles brokenly, as he always does. His eyes constantly flit around the room before they land on Steve. He blinks as if returning to reality. “Hey, Steve. Uh...yeah. It’s...I’m okay.” More blinking. Steve’s heart feels heavy. He knows Bruce spends every moment tenuously existing between two versions of himself, fighting against his own central nervous system’s tendency to switch over to his fight or flight response during times of stress, which invariably gets quite messy.

 _No wonder he looks like a space case sometimes...probably has to disconnect from reality just to give himself a break_. _I can identify with that_.

He glances at Bucky, who is looking around the room at the rest of the partygoers. He always seems to know when Steve’s eyes are on him, and he turns back to smile. “Don’t forget your beer,” he reminds before taking a long swig of his own.

Steve turns back to look at Natasha and Bruce, then wills himself to make small talk. _Just a Christmas party with my friends._

* * *

As the night continues, Steve and Bucky make their way around the room, chatting with the various groups they encounter. As expected, the conversation between Stephen, Vision, and Wanda is confusing at best, and downright baffling most of the time. Steve feels hopelessly simple around them, and they move quickly onto the next group. Bucky hovers nearby, lending Steve nonverbal support with his presence. Over time, they both relax. Whether that’s due to the general positive tone of the room or their blood alcohol content is unclear; regardless, they feel more at ease as they mingle.

At some point, Pepper takes over the DJ stand and switches the music back to more traditional holiday songs. This elicits a disappointed groan and subsequent pout from Thor, who had been enjoying himself thoroughly while dancing to MC Hammer. (This, of course, was embarrassing Loki to no small degree, who rolled his eyes as often as he could and sighed heavily with a withering look on his face. He was pleased, however, as Silent Night began to play and Thor was forced to stop his nonsensical gyrating.)

“Steve!” Sam says loudly while he places an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “So glad you made it, buddy! And Buck, good to see you! Nice to have a couple more soldiers to talk to. Holidays are weird, aren’t they?”

They can’t help but chuckle at Sam’s straightforward nonchalance. Steve finds himself nodding, instantly at ease. “Yeah, Sam. They really are. Good to see you, Clint. Surprised you aren’t home with all your little ones.”

Clint nods. “The missus sent me off. She’s got some friends over and wanted me out of her hair.”

“Clint’s been regaling me with stories of some of your battles before I joined the team. Wish I was around back then! Sounds like you all could have used me in the battle for New York. All sorts of flying shit, he said. Would have been fun!” Sam adds with a laugh.

“Fun’s one way to describe it,” Natasha replies as she joins the conversation. She shares a knowing glance with Clint, who suppresses a smirk. “So Cap…,” she starts. “There’s this new girl…”

Steve feels the air leave his lungs. _This again._ He glances at Bucky, whose eyes widen. Steve feels his heart rate pick up and his hands begin to sweat. He tightens his grip on the beer so he doesn’t drop it.

“...and she is _not_ a spy or anything...weird. She’s just a normal, pretty, sweet girl,” Natasha continues. “I told her a little bit about you--and I mean, about _you_. About Steve. Not Cap. I mean...you are Cap, but...I know you’re more than that, too,” she finishes with a smile.

His chest is tight, cheeks hot, ears ringing. _Maybe I wasn’t ready for this after all…_

“So what do you say? Want me to set you two up?”

Bucky swallows, eyes still fixed on Steve, who can’t seem to get himself to breathe. He vaguely hears Sam clear his throat, then comment on the snow outside, trying to change the subject. Steve finally forces himself to open his mouth and drag his eyes over to Natasha, who is still staring at him expectantly. He coughs, then takes a quick drink of his beer to wet his suddenly dry throat. “Uh, thanks, Natasha. But I’m fine.” _This isn’t how this was supposed to go._ He looks back over at Bucky, whose jaw is fixed and eyes are hard. _Don’t be…_

“C’mon, Cap, everyone deserves a little _lurve_!” Tony chimes in as he inserts himself into the circle. “Even genetically modified super drones--I mean, soldiers--like yourself.”

Steve takes a deep breath, anxiety quickly shifting to rage. “No, Tony. Thanks. I’m good.”

“Forget how to get it up? I mean, it is pretty basic, but if you’re out of practice…”

“Tony,” Sam warns. “Enough. Leave it.”

The rest of the party has started watching the interaction curiously, the room filling with tension.

Tony barks out a laugh. “What? He spent 70 years as a Capsicle, who knows if it even works…”

Suddenly Bucky’s metal hand is resting on Tony’s forearm. A threat. “That’s enough, Stark.”

Tony glances down briefly, then meets Bucky’s gaze. “Or what? Feeling the need to defend the honor of your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t take it anymore. “Maybe he does,” he says much more loudly than he intends to. Silence blankets the room. “And so what if he wants to defend me! Isn’t that what you would do if someone was being an arrogant, self-righteous asshole to Miss Potts?”

Tony’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline as realization hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes go wide and he blinks slowly once, twice, before grinning broadly. “Knew it. You owe me, Clint. What’d we decide on, fifty bucks? Who else was in on the pool? Dumbledore, you were keeping track of the bets, right?” He shouts at Stephen across the room, who stares back with a mixture of shock and annoyance on his face before shaking his head.

Everyone startles as Thor lets out a yell. “Yeah!!! Oh, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes! I am so eternally happy for you both! Your childhood friendship turned to romantic love!? This is the best Christmas I’ve _ever_ attended!”

“It’s the only Christmas you’ve ever attended, brother,” Loki reminds, disdain on his face.

“And it is **_the best!_ ** Clearly this deserves a toast! Stark, fill everyone’s glasses so we may celebrate the love between our two friends!”

Thor’s exuberance seems to break the stressful tone in the room as several people chuckle quietly to themselves. Steve glances around, expecting...something. He isn’t sure what. What he finds, though, is a room full of people, full of _friends,_ who seem...happy. For him. _For them_. His heart swells in his chest at the thought as relief floods his body. His limbs feel weak suddenly.

Bucky drops his hand from Tony’s arm and looks at Steve with uncertainty. As Tony moves away to grab drinks, he pats Bucky’s shoulder and grins at Steve. “Took you long enough, Cap. The metal arm probably makes things a bit uncomfortable, I’d imagine, but--”

Pepper clamps her hand over his mouth, shooting an apologetic look at the two of them. “Shut up and GO,” she commands, pushing him to the bar. As she walks away with him, she turns back to mouth _I’m happy for you_.

“Steve, I--” Natasha begins, looking embarrassed. “I had no idea, I--”

Tension leaving him completely, he smiles at her. “I know. It’s...don’t worry about it. Not like we were broadcasting it. Just glad it’s...out, now.” He catches Bucky’s gaze, his eyes glistening. “Say sorry to your friend for me,” he adds sheepishly.

She shakes her head and smirks. “She’ll be fine.”

The rest of the party guests gather around them at the tree while Tony walks around the circle to fill glasses. The room is again filled with mirth as everyone relaxes and toasts their friends. Laughter, the clinking of the glasses, Christmas carols, playful banter...the air is thick with the sounds of the holiday.

“Well, look at this fortuitous turn of events! A mistletoe!” Thor exclaims, pointing above them. Steve sighs and glances up to verify. There it is--a huge ball of mistletoe, and Steve and Bucky are standing directly underneath it. Suddenly the room feels too warm as he brings himself to ignore the pointed stares of his friends and look back at Bucky. He can feel the eyes of those around him, and yet, in this moment...there is only Bucky.

Bucky, with his face soft and open, lips drawn up slightly in a sweet smile and eyes reflecting the lights from the tree. Bucky, with his head cocked towards Steve and his expression full of love. Bucky, with his hand in Steve’s, fingers intertwined and thumb stroking slowly.

Steve feels the heat in his cheeks, but _this time_ , he doesn’t look away. He will never look away again. He feels himself drawn magnetically towards his partner, their lips meeting softly in a silent chorus of _I love yous_. He inhales Bucky’s scent--cologne, beer, musk, cinnamon--and feels himself disconnecting from his surroundings. This time, however, it feels _right._

It feels like a new beginning. A fresh start. _Our first Christmas._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know it was a sappy feels fest. It was supposed to be. Merry Christmas Y'all.  
> Also: DC Y'all!! <3<3 And stuff.


End file.
